Last Moments of Normality
by 666PsychoCheddar999
Summary: A collection of one-shots detailing the last few moments of various characters in Dragon Age: Origins and Dragon Age 2 before they met the Champion of Kirkwall or The Hero of Ferelden. Their lives will never be the same again...
1. Varric Tethras

Last Moments of Normality

1. Varric Tethras

"No." said the woman, who Varric had deduced from her shiftiness whenever a Templar walked by was a mage, folding her arms.

"Come on! The treasure we find down there could set you up for life! All you need is 50 sovereigns..."

"50 sovereigns?!" the mage practically screamed at him, causing Varric to jump a little. "If I had that kind of money, I wouldn't be living in bloody Darktown!"

"You need to think bigger! There's only a brief window after a Blight where the Deep Roads won't be crawling with darkspawn!"

"I'm NOT dying at the hands of darkspawn after I barely got my family away from them! Find some other foolhardy idiot!" The mage turned and stormed off back to Darktown, as Varric glared at her back and was seriously considering filling her full of arrows. That or calling for the nearest Templar, the darkspawn-bait, nug-humping...

Varric sighed and let out an irritated sigh before walking off in the opposite direction back towards Bartrand. He knew Bartrand wouldn't be able to find enough money to finance the expedition and had been going behind his back to find a partner to help with that. Unfortunately, anyone who might be interested in more riches soiled themselves and ran when they heard about the 50 sovereigns thing.

Varric strolled around the corner and stopped when he saw two people talking to Bartrand. At first, his mind flashed to, "Coterie" and his hand flew to Bianca but then he noticed the two humans talking to Bartrand didn't look well armed enough for Coterie and Bartrand seemed to be yelling at them. And when Varric looked closer, he realized something.

One was Hawke. The same Hawke who had been making a name for himself in the underworld. And, from what Bartrand was saying, Varric deduced that Hawke was certainly keen to go on the expedition. This might be just what he was looking for. Varric smirked and rubbed his chin.

"I know, Bianca. It is a good idea!" Varric grinned, as he headed around the same way Hawke was going to ensure they met. As he came into the open, he noticed some street urchin run past Hawke and bump into him, noticing Hawke's coin purse 'slip' into his pocket. Varric shook his head and readied Bianca, firing a shot into the boy's shoulder and pinning him to the wall.

"You know, I once knew a guy who could take every coin out of your pocket just by smiling at you." This was a lie. Varric knew nobody of that great a prowess.

Varric held out his hand and the urchin dropped the coin purse into his hand without resistance. Varric decided to make this quick, in return.

"But you, you don't have the style to work Hightown, let alone the Merchants' Guild."

In a split second decision, Varric decided he should probably show off his strength a little to Hawke, give him confidence in the mission.

"Might want to find yourself a...new line of work." he smiled, as he punch the urchin across the face and pulled out the arrow with a sly, "Off you go." Sorry, kid he thought to himself, as he approached Hawke.

He threw the coin purse back and spun an arrow nonchalantly, before putting it back in the pouch.

"How do you do? Varric Tethras, at your service."


	2. Alistair Theirin

2. Alistair Theirin 

Alistair strolled through the camp at Ostagar towards where the Revered Mother had said to go. He was to deliver a message that she 'required the presence' of the senior enchanter there. He had, of course, argued that she could do it herself and that it was about a one minute walk across the camp. She had then replied by saying something about how the Maker's blessing will not give itself out. And Alistair was going to ask what the point of the Maker is if he can't give out his own blessing but she had already left.

And so, here he was, plodding towards the large ruin which the Revered Mother had vaguely pointed in the direction of, ready to deliver a message comprising of about 9 words.

He sighed as he climbed the walked up the steps to the ruin. He was just going to deliver the mage's message and run somewhere far away from the revered mother. And Cailan, for that matter. Although, he had been succeeding at dodging the king quite well so far, even going as far as to jump into a haystack at one point when he walked past.

As the mage came into view, he saw it was a dark-skinned, middle-aged man standing in front of an elf, who looked terrified.

"WELL, GO AND FETCH ME SOME NOW, KNIFE EARS! I'M STARVING!" screamed the mage at the elf, striking him across the face as he did so.

"Y-yes, ser! I'll go right away!" whimpered the elf, who looked like he was close to tears.

"And what do you want?" growled the mage, turning to Alistair.

Alistair decided to abort his original plan of getting this over and done with. He was going to have some fun.

"Greetings, oh cheerful mage! I am a Grey Warden and I bring news from the...oh no, I've forgotten who it's from. I do apologize!" grinned Alistair.

"Well, what was the message? Spit it out!" sighed the mage.

"Yes, ummm..." Alistair furrowed his brow in thought, pretending to have forgotten the message. "Oh, what was it? Change your underwear, I think. Oh, no. That was a letter from my mum. Ummm, the king has requested you to be his royal bum wiper? No, that wasn't it..."

"You are trying my patience, Warden!" the mage was close to yelling, his hands curled into fists.

Alistair chortled, as he looked at the spectacle of an angry mage. He decided to stop before the mage turned him into a toad or something.

"Alright. Alright." Alistair smiled and the mage took deep breaths to calm himself down, "It's a message for you from..."

"What is it now?" demanded the mage, growing annoyed again. "Haven't Grey Wardens already asked enough of the Circle.

Alistair was using all of his self-control not to start winding up this pompous ass of a mage and responded, "I simply came to deliver a message from the revered mother, ser mage. She desires your presence."

Naturally, the mage flared up again at the slightest provocation.

"What her reverence desires is of no concern to me! I am busy helping the Grey Wardens, by the king's order, I might add!"

Alistair's patience with this man was gone and he instantly reverted to winding him up. He had noticed a new arrival to the scene out of the corner of his eye and decided to put on a show.

"Should I have asked her to right a note?" he asked, with another trademark grin.

"Tell her I will not be harassed in this manner!"

"Yes, I was harassing you by delivering a message!" Alistair was determined to get rid of this through grinning at him now.

"Your glibness does you no credit" The mage was attempting a personal attack now Alistair wasn't having any of that.

"And here I thought we were getting along so well. I was even going to name one of my children after you. The grumpy one!"

Alistair didn't even know what the mage was called but it had the desired effect, as the mage replied, "Enough! I will speak to the woman if I must! Get out of my way, fool!"

And with that, he stormed off back down the steps. Alistair grinned again at a job well done and turned to the new arrival.

"You know, one good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together."


	3. Loghain Mac Tir

3. Loghain Mac Tir

"And I remind you once again that we DO NOT need help from the Orlesians! I WILL NOT let those bastards back into Ferelden when me and your father worked so hard to drive them out!" Loghain yelled at King Cailan from across the table in the teyrn's tent.

"Why do you insist on never accepting help from the Orlesians, Loghain?! You're acting like we are still at war with them!" Cailan roared back, as the two guards inside the tent, pretended not to notice the battle raging between the two.

"Well, we will be if we let them in and this time we will lose! Do you think they'll just go back to Orlais when they're done?! Are you really that naive?"

"You are wrong, Loghain! You must set your prejudices aside if we are going to defeat the darkspawn! Or are you that fixated on pretending you're still a higher rank than the king?!"

"How dare you! I WAS LEADING BATTLES WHILE YOU WERE ROLLING AROUND THE CASTLE FLOOR IN YOUR OWN SH-!"

Ser Cauthrien stood at the tent entrance and bellowed, "My lords!" to attract the two's attention, which was met by a loud, "WHAT?!" from both of them.

She was a little taken aback by probably the two most powerful men in the country screaming at her before composing herself and relaying the message.

"Duncan and his new recruit have been spotted coming down the Imperial Highway, if you still want to greet him, my king."

"Ah, certainly! Thank you, Cauthrien!" Cailan smiled at the mention of Duncan like a child at it's favourite toy and swept out of the tent with his two guards at his back.

Loghain sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with his hand. Ser Cauthrien approached him.

"Something wrong, ser?"

"Cailan acts around the Grey Wardens as if he were meeting his favourite poet for the first time. He expects them to win at Ostagar all by themselves. He has denied Redcliffe forces and his battle strategy would consist of 'charge and hope we don't all get slaughtered' if not for me. He is weak- minded and a fool! If only Maric were here..."

Ser Cauthrien stood rocking on her heels, awkwardly surveying the tent, when there really wasn't much to survey. It was a few quiet, awkward minutes before Loghain finally said, "You are dismissed, Ser Cauthrien."

"Thank you, ser!" Cauthrien responded, aware she made her response sound a little to relieved, and exited the tent promptly.

Loghain sighed again, this time slightly sadder. He had hoped he wouldn't have to do this. Cailan was his best friend's son, after all. But Cailan had shown that he was far too blinded by the tales of old to be able to formulate clear battle strategy. He hoped Maric would understand and so would the Maker.

He decided to take his mind off it and sat down at the table, pulling out the wooden figures of himself and the Archdemon he kept under it. This was his favourite way to relax.

"I am Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir, fearsome Grey Warden and slayer of darkspawn! Oh, and soon-to-be-king!" he said in a booming voice for himself.

"I am the evil Archdemon, spreader of the Blight and destroyer of Thedas! Surrender, oh fearsome Loghain, or perish!" said Loghain, in a fearsome demonic voice for the Archdemon.

"Never! I will never surrender and you will never win! The Blight ends here, foul beast! Prepare to meet thy doom!"

"As you wish, brave Teyrn Loghain! It will be an honour to fight one so brave and handsome as-!"

"Um, Teyrn Loghain?" the voice of Loghain's guard, who now stood in the tent, staring curiously at the two figures on the table.

Loghain quickly threw them back under the table and jumped out of his seat, in outrage.

"HOW DARE YOU BARGE IN HERE! KNOCK FIRST!" roared the Teyrn.

Before the guard could find something in the tent to knock on, the Teyrn continued, in a more composed tone, "Who is it?"

"Uh...the new Grey Warden recruit, ser. He...wants to talk to you"

"Fine, fine." stuttered the Teyrn, face turning red in embarrassment, as he quickly strolled outside and came face-to-face with the recruit.

"Yes, what is it? Oh, you're Duncan's new Grey Warden, I assume?"


End file.
